Killers of the Flower Moon
POSTED BY: Brenda
UPDATED: Monday, July 27, 2026 09:46
VIEWED: 442
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After last night not sure if the Uncle is dead but there was huge fire on his place and it kinda looked like he was strung up. So Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!
Mollie saw an owl which to the Osage means death. She tried to warn Ernest that he was next.
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Quote:
Originally posted by Brenda:
After last night not sure if the Uncle is dead but there was huge fire on his place and it kinda looked like he was strung up. So Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!
That was almost as good as your review.
Quote:
Mollie saw an owl which to the Osage means death. She tried to warn Ernest that he was next.
Ruh, Roh.
I'm planning on writing back to your long message, Brenda, but it was a long day and I don't know if I'll get to it tonight.
But I have to know what did the last line mean?
Quote:
Also you are getting pretty to good with old William there.
Maybe I'm blanking, but I can't figure out what that means in the context of what we're talking about, and I looked online to see if it was maybe an idiom I didn't know and drew a blank there.
I read your whole message. I will reply.
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Those who dance always seem crazy to those who can't hear the music.
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Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI by David Grann
Free download from https://z-lib.gl/s/Killers%20of%20the%20Flower%20Moon
The last few paragraphs of the book:
Before I left Osage County to return home, I stopped to see Mary Jo Webb, a retired teacher who had spent decades investigating the suspicious death of her grandfather during the Reign of Terror. Webb, who was in her eighties, lived in a single-story wooden house in Fairfax, not far from where the Smiths’ home had exploded. A frail woman with a quavering voice, she invited me in and we sat in her living room. I had called earlier to arrange the visit, and in expectation of my arrival she had brought out several boxes of documents—including guardian expense reports, probate records, and court testimony—that she’d gathered about the case of her grandfather Paul Peace. “He was one of those victims who didn’t show up in the FBI files and whose killers didn’t go to prison,” Webb said.
In December 1926, Peace suspected that his wife, who was white, was poisoning him. As the documents confirmed, he went to see the attorney Comstock, whom Webb described as one of the few decent white attorneys at the time. Peace wanted to get a divorce and change his will to disinherit his wife. A witness later testified that Peace had claimed his wife was feeding him “some kind of poison, that she was killing him.”
When I asked Webb how her grandfather might have been poisoned, she said, “There were these doctors. They were brothers. My mother said that everyone knew that’s where people would get the dope to poison the Osage.”
“What was their name?” I asked.
“The Shouns.”
I remembered the Shouns. They were the doctors who had claimed that the bullet that had killed Anna Brown had disappeared. The doctors who had initially concealed that Bill Smith had given a last statement incriminating Hale and who had arranged it so that one of them became the administrator of Rita Smith’s invaluable estate. The doctors whom investigators suspected of giving Mollie Burkhart poison instead of insulin. Many of the cases seemed bound by a web of silent conspirators. Mathis, the Big Hill Trading Company owner and the guardian of Anna Brown and her mother, was a member of the inquest into Brown’s murder that failed to turn up the bullet. He also managed, on behalf of Mollie’s family, the team of private eyes that conspicuously never cracked any of the cases. A witness had told the bureau that after Henry Roan’s murder, Hale was eager to get the corpse away from one undertaker and delivered to the funeral home at the Big Hill Trading Company. The murder plots depended upon doctors who falsified death certificates and upon undertakers who quickly and quietly buried bodies. The guardian whom McAuliffe suspected of killing his grandmother was a prominent attorney working for the tribe who never interfered with the criminal networks operating under his nose. Nor did bankers, including the apparent murderer Burt, who were profiting from the criminal “Indian business.” Nor did the venal mayor of Fairfax—an ally of Hale’s who also served as a guardian. Nor did countless lawmen and prosecutors and judges who had a hand in the blood money. In 1926, the Osage leader Bacon Rind remarked, “There are men amongst the whites, honest men, but they are mighty scarce.” Garrick Bailey, a leading anthropologist on Osage culture, said to me, “If Hale had told what he knew, a high percentage of the county’s leading citizens would have been in prison.” Indeed, virtually every element of society was complicit in the murderous system. Which is why just about any member of this society might have been responsible for the murder of McBride, in Washington: he threatened to bring down not only Hale but a vast criminal operation that was reaping millions and millions of dollars.
On February 23, 1927, weeks after Paul Peace vowed to disinherit and divorce the wife he suspected of poisoning him, he was injured in a hit-and-run and left to bleed out on the road. W
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Quote:
Originally posted by 6ixStringJack:Quote:
Originally posted by Brenda:
After last night not sure if the Uncle is dead but there was huge fire on his place and it kinda looked like he was strung up. So Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!
That was almost as good as your review.Quote:
Mollie saw an owl which to the Osage means death. She tried to warn Ernest that he was next.
Ruh, Roh.
I'm planning on writing back to your long message, Brenda, but it was a long day and I don't know if I'll get to it tonight.
But I have to know what did the last line mean?
Quote:
Also you are getting pretty to good with old William there.
Maybe I'm blanking, but I can't figure out what that means in the context of what we're talking about, and I looked online to see if it was maybe an idiom I didn't know and drew a blank there.
I read your whole message. I will reply.
--------------------------------------------------
Those who dance always seem crazy to those who can't hear the music.
Yeah, well. If haven't guessed by now. I hated the character with a passion.
Luckily Mollie didn't die and neither did Ernest. Many tribes have animals that can mean death or a message of death or just bring a message.
Oh, when people would be idiots about us being Indians. My dad would say it was, "Their problem." Because they couldn't or wouldn't try to understand things or putting people down. Stuff like that. They had some friends before I was born that were drinkers, my folks didn't like going out with them. They faded away. So that is what he meant.
You said, "We are all players on a "someone else's stage". It's a bit of a corruption of a line from Richard the Third one of William Shakespeare's plays.
"We are all just players on a stage. Full of sound and fury. Signifying nothing." is the line.
No worries.
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Quote:
Originally posted by Brenda:
Yeah, well. If haven't guessed by now. I hated the character with a passion.
Ya think?
Quote:
Luckily Mollie didn't die and neither did Ernest. Many tribes have animals that can mean death or a message of death or just bring a message.
I know I have a funny story, maybe it was a funny scene from a movie or a TV show that matches this very explanation to a T, except it wasn't to do with Tribal Spirituality. It's like right on the tip of my tongue, but I can't get the memory over the finish line right now.
Something about somebody consulting god, or gods, or trying to get information from a higher power through some sort of totem or fetish, but they're either getting bad info from the gods or they're deciphering it wrong and they thought all of this horrible stuff was about to happen, but nothing does and it turned out the message was just something benign and completely unrelated.
Kinda like the Don't Forget To Drink Your Ovaltine scene from A Christmas Story, now that I think about it.
Quote:
Oh, when people would be idiots about us being Indians. My dad would say it was, "Their problem." Because they couldn't or wouldn't try to understand things or putting people down. Stuff like that. They had some friends before I was born that were drinkers, my folks didn't like going out with them. They faded away. So that is what he meant.
It's cool reading little things about your past like this, Brenda. Not in age at all, but in temperament, you remind me a lot of my Grams. She was a special woman. I only ever saw her cry one time when my Grandpa died when I was 5. She didn't let things bother her. She didn't let people bother her. She wasn't looking for an argument out of anybody. She knew God exists and that she was eventually going to meet him, so I think when she had that figured out for herself, everything else was just happily passing the time until that day. It was like she was sort of above it all, but never in a "snooty" way, just effortless. As if she wasn't even aware of how she carried herself.
"Their Problem".
You're damn right.
Quote:
You said, "We are all players on a "someone else's stage". It's a bit of a corruption of a line from Richard the Third one of William Shakespeare's plays.
"We are all just players on a stage. Full of sound and fury. Signifying nothing." is the line.
No worries.
Oh... My bad. I'm not very well read on Shakespeare. Though when you state that full line, I know I've either read it or heard it before, and it's probably where I came up with it, now that you mention it.
And I'm going to give it 80% odds that I'd heard the phrase from my Grams. And if that's the case, especially after her short term memory started going, she might have said it to me more than once.
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Those who dance always seem crazy to those who can't hear the music.
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Quote:
Originally posted by 6ixStringJack:Quote:
Originally posted by Brenda:
Yeah, well. If haven't guessed by now. I hated the character with a passion.
Ya think?Quote:
Luckily Mollie didn't die and neither did Ernest. Many tribes have animals that can mean death or a message of death or just bring a message.
I know I have a funny story, maybe it was a funny scene from a movie or a TV show that matches this very explanation to a T, except it wasn't to do with Tribal Spirituality. It's like right on the tip of my tongue, but I can't get the memory over the finish line right now.
Something about somebody consulting god, or gods, or trying to get information from a higher power through some sort of totem or fetish, but they're either getting bad info from the gods or they're deciphering it wrong and they thought all of this horrible stuff was about to happen, but nothing does and it turned out the message was just something benign and completely unrelated.
Kinda like the Don't Forget To Drink Your Ovaltine scene from A Christmas Story, now that I think about it.Quote:
Oh, when people would be idiots about us being Indians. My dad would say it was, "Their problem." Because they couldn't or wouldn't try to understand things or putting people down. Stuff like that. They had some friends before I was born that were drinkers, my folks didn't like going out with them. They faded away. So that is what he meant.
It's cool reading little things about your past like this, Brenda. Not in age at all, but in temperament, you remind me a lot of my Grams. She was a special woman. I only ever saw her cry one time when my Grandpa died when I was 5. She didn't let things bother her. She didn't let people bother her. She wasn't looking for an argument out of anybody. She knew God exists and that she was eventually going to meet him, so I think when she had that figured out for herself, everything else was just happily passing the time until that day. It was like she was sort of above it all, but never in a "snooty" way, just effortless. As if she wasn't even aware of how she carried herself.
"Their Problem".
You're damn right.Quote:
You said, "We are all players on a "someone else's stage". It's a bit of a corruption of a line from Richard the Third one of William Shakespeare's plays.
"We are all just players on a stage. Full of sound and fury. Signifying nothing." is the line.
No worries.
Oh... My bad. I'm not very well read on Shakespeare. Though when you state that full line, I know I've either read it or heard it before, and it's probably where I came up with it, now that you mention it.
And I'm going to give it 80% odds that I'd heard the phrase from my Grams. And if that's the case, especially after her short term memory started going, she might have said it to me more than once.
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Those who dance always seem crazy to those who can't hear the music.
What can I say. The character was an a-hole.
Even Christians consulting god can get his messages wrong. Crossed wires happen.Well, I try not to cry in front of people. It's just me. If I do it means something got to me and I didn't realize it.
Yes, I would say your grandmother was a special lady indeed.
Yup, my dad wasn't looking for a fight. He just wanted to live his life and look after his family and let people look after themselves.
I hopefully succeed in not looking for fights and live and let live. Don't know what my dad thought about death but I hope when my time comes I will be reunited with my parents, Blair, my dad's brothers and sisters along with meeting both sets of grandparents.
Don't worry about corrupting Shakespeare. A lot of people do that.
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Quote:
Originally posted by Brenda:Quote:
You said, "We are all players on a "someone else's stage". It's a bit of a corruption of a line from Richard the Third one of William Shakespeare's plays.
"We are all just players on a stage. Full of sound and fury. Signifying nothing." is the line.
No worries.
Don't worry about corrupting Shakespeare. A lot of people do that. I love the Bard and I probably got that line a little wrong myself.
I've seen Richard the Third done as a movie, so I sort of know the line.
Speech: “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow”
By William Shakespeare
(from Macbeth, spoken by Macbeth)
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/56964/speech-tomorrow-and-tomor
row-and-tomorrow
The Joss Whedon script for Serenity, where Wash lives, is Serenity-190pages.pdf at https://www.mediafire.com/two
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Thank you Second.
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That was actually really nice of you, Second.
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Those who dance always seem crazy to those who can't hear the music.
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